Girls Like Girls
by RattyCatty
Summary: Regina and Emma do shots at the end of 4x11 and get closer than they expected to. Tooth-rotting fluff about our fave cute drunk queer girlfriends. Mentions of OQ/Robin but focuses on Swan Queen. Written for Day 5 of Swan Queen Week July 2015 for the prompt 'best friend romance'.


**Swan Queen Week [July 2015 - Tropes & Cliches]: Day 5: Best Friend Romance  
**

 **Regina and Emma do shots in 4x11 and get closer. Horrible, horrible fluff about our fave cute drunk queer girlfriends.  
**

 **Also, shameless self promotion: you can find me on tumblr (rattycattyfanfic) and now twitter (rattycattyff). Feedback is awesome~**

 **Warnings: Alcohol, mentions of OQ and Robin, references to sex.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I don't own Once Upon A Time.**

* * *

She's sitting in Granny's nursing a cup of tea for the second time in a single day, and so much has changed; Robin's gone - truly and likely forever, this time, rather than simply out of reach - and Rumple has left town too (or more accurately, he's been _banished_ , and she'll admit it comforts her a little to know he's miserable).

He's quite possibly as miserable as she is.

They've both lost someone important today, only further proving the fact that villains don't get happy endings.

It's damned frustrating, and she's just about at her wit's end with this whole happy ending business.

Of course, a certain blonde takes it on herself to 'cheer Regina up' - no doubt with talk of hope and belief and that being good will always get her a happy ending. Like mother, like daughter.

"I'm not in the mood for a hope speech, Emma," she sighs, resting her chin on her hand in a decidedly un-queenly fashion. Honestly, in this moment, Regina cares very little about what's regal and what's not.

"You're mistaking me for my mother," the blonde responds lightly. "Besides, you don't need a hope speech - you need a drinking buddy. Shots?"

Regina perks up a little. It's a rather unexpected offer, but she'll take hard liquor over a Charming speech any day. "Sure, why not?" she agrees with her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, as if she's trying to figure Emma - or this situation - out.

The sheriff just beams at her and holds two fingers up to the waitress behind the bar. Her slim fingers drum on the counter with nervous energy as they wait for the drinks. "You know you did the right thing today," she states quietly.

The brunette huffs. "There it is! A hope speech. I thought we were drinking," she complains. She doesn't want to talk about this at all - she's thought it over enough already and her mind is simply going in sad, sad circles. An alcohol-induced fogginess will be very welcome.

"It's not a speech; it's a compliment," Emma sighs, because can't this damn woman just submit and allow herself to be comforted for once? That's not Regina though, Emma knows, and the brunette will die before she allows herself to go soft.

Regina swallows and petulantly argues, "Well, I don't need your validation. I know I did the right thing. I know, because I'm miserable - again."

The blonde sighs again, and a part of her aches knowing that the woman beside her has spent so long being sad and alone only to end up right there in that place again. There are some things a saviour apparently can't fix - not that that's going to stop her from trying.

Their shots couldn't arrive at a better time. Emma murmurs a word of gratitude to the waitress whilst Regina picks up one shot and tries to burn a hole in the counter with her eyes.

"If it makes you feel any better, so is Gold," the blonde counters gently, taking the other glass in her hand and looking at Regina with hopeful eyes.

Regina nods, a hint of mirth in her eyes despite her misery. "It does." They clink their glasses together and then throw back the well-needed alcohol.

* * *

A generous number of shots later - Regina lost count sometime after the fifth or sixth - they're leaning on each other simply to stop either of them toppling right off the bar stools. The world is hazy and glowing, and everything seems a hell of a lot funnier than it did an hour ago.

The former queen's laughter rings out, bright and clear, even when the older woman presses a hand over her mouth in a vague attempt to contain herself. "You almost married a flying monkey?" she giggles.

"I didn't know!" Emma defends quickly. She tries to sound serious because she really _didn't_ know, but there's a smirk playing at the edges of her lips. Regina's laughter, as rare as it, is infectious. "It took me by surprise too."

Regina chuckles. "I bet it did," she manages to get out, trying to steady herself. Her laughter finally dies down, though her grin remains. Her head rests gently against Emma's and she exhales before straightening up as well as she can manage - which isn't very well at all, really, but she tries at least.

Emma glances at the brunette, and then does a double take.

It's cliché and ridiculous, but maybe Emma's been blind for the last three or four years she's been in Storybrooke, because right now, Regina looks like the most beautiful thing the blonde has ever seen. The mayor seems to glow - which is quite possibly an effect of the alcohol, but she seems radiant. Her skin is a little flushed, her eyes shine, and her painted lips are pulled into a bright smile. The older woman looks happier than ever, which is a vast contrast to the funk she had been in a little while ago, but a welcome one all the same.

"Emma?" Regina asks, pausing. The saviour is looking - gazing, really - at her like she's the second coming, and it's a little strange.

The blonde shakes her head, coming out of her trance. "Wh - huh?"

"Something wrong?"

"Uh - nothing - nothing," Emma stutters, eyes wide.

Regina doesn't have to have Emma's admittedly unreliable superpower to know she's lying; it's written all over her face. Apparently Emma's even worse at lying when she's drunk than she is when she's sober. The brunette smiles weakly all the same.

Green eyes trace over Regina's form. "You're beautiful," the saviour blurts out suddenly.

Quite obviously taken aback, Regina simply opens her mouth and then closes it again without speaking. She knows she's beautiful; she's been told by many men and women, not always pleasantly. She'd just never expected to hear it from the _saviour_ of all people.

Emma swallows, anxiety making her hands tingle. The alcohol in her blood spurs her on, though. "Robin was an idiot for even considering choosing Marian over you."

It's the mayor's turn to swallow then. "Emma," she argues softly. "It wasn't like that. She was his wife and I'm…" She trails off, shaking her head and looking at the sheriff with suddenly sad, conflicted eyes.

The sheriff shrugs. "Still."

A silent minute passes and their respective hearts beat furiously in their chests. Then, Emma dares to do the one thing she's wanted to do for longer than she'd like to admit: very slowly, she leans in and presses her lips lightly against Regina's.

Regina wobbles drunkenly before steadying herself on the counter. It's a tense minute before she responds to the kiss; it's unexpected and strange and possibly inappropriate, but at the same time, it's pleasant and gentle and undemanding. Emma's about to pull away when one of the brunette's hands moves to cup her jaw softly, holding her in place. The queen relaxes into the kiss, even allows herself to kiss back.

They part a moment later, and Regina looks completely surprised, her eyes wide and confused, and her lips parted in a perfect 'o' shape. "Emma," she breathes. "Should we really - you're my only friend," she mumbles.

Emma is flooded with dread, and not even the alcohol is enough to stop its icy fingers clawing at her. Right now, she feels completely sober, and her cheeks flush hot with embarrassment. _Oh god._

All Regina sees looking back at her are those stupid, sad puppy dog eyes, and that's enough to make her resolve crumble. A voice somewhere in the back of her mind tells her this is an idiotic idea, but she's already missing the feel of Emma's lips on hers, and she's suddenly aware of how much she wants this - whatever _this_ is.

She leans in quickly before she has the chance to chicken out, and crashes her lips against Emma's slightly chapped ones. The second kiss is deeper, and somewhere along the line, their mouths part and tongues come into play.

This time, when they part, Regina is breathless for an entirely different reason. Resting her forehead against Emma's, she whispers, "Let's get out of here."

Emma's eyes widen as Regina hops off the bar stool, stumbling a bit before righting herself and pulling the blonde with her. Their eyes connect, and the shock has melted away from brown eyes, leaving only fire and silent promises.

The blonde slides off the chair and follows the queen like a duck to water.

* * *

The first thing Regina is aware of when she wakes the next morning is that she's not alone. Nestled in the sheets beside her is another warm, curvy body. Locks of soft, blonde hair are spread across the pillow, and one person springs to mind: Emma Swan.

Fear hits her hard in the stomach because dear lord, _what_ has she done? She's slept with the saviour, the other mother of her son, the only one who believes in her besides her son and her absent ex-lover. What if she's managed to destroy this relationship - her only friendship - simply because of a drunken fuck?

Then she allows herself one indulgent moment to think what if she hasn't ruined anything? What if Emma wakes up and doesn't regret a second of it? It's an unlikely scenario, but one that Regina quite likes the thought of. Something like hope and curiosity blooms inside her, and she yearns to hold onto whatever this is.

She's been alone too long, and now with Robin gone, she'll likely be alone again - unless Emma will have her.

As if on cue, the woman in question rolls over and groans as she stretches out like an oversized cat in the sun. She shifts again, and finally lays bleary eyes on the brunette. Her eyes widen suddenly, but she doesn't appear disgusted or scared - just surprised and confused. "Regina," she mumbles, her voice low and husky with sleep.

Regina smiles sheepishly. "Emma."

Emma struggles for words, because what the hell do you say when you wake up in bed with Regina Mills - your best friend and the woman you've low-key been crushing on for years?

"Are you - 'freaked'?" Regina asks nervously, plucking the word from Emma's strange, modern vocabulary.

The blonde smiles crookedly at the mayor's stilted use of the word. "No, I'm just…how did we get here?"

Regina raises her eyebrows at that; they're naked in bed - it's fairly obvious how they got there.

Emma snorts, catching Regina's meaning. "No, I mean, what did we do last night?"

The brunette pulls at blurred flashes of the previous night, hoping to uncover something that will explain everything. "Well, obviously, this," she says, gesturing vaguely at the two of them in the large bed. "The last thing I remember clearly is sitting in Granny's after…" Regina trails off, swallowing and looking away. She has no desire to cry over Robin in front of anyone, especially when in bed with someone else.

"Hey," Emma interrupts, laying a soft hand of Regina's bare arm.

Regina looks at the blonde again, forcing a smile. "Feel free to go downstairs and make some coffee," she suggests, swiftly changing the topic. "I'll be down in a minute." With that, she pushes herself out of bed and heads into the en suite bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

* * *

When Regina appears in the kitchen, fully dressed and showered, Emma has brewed a pot of coffee and made herself at home at the kitchen island. "Hey," she greets lightly.

"Morning," the brunette responds smoothly with a false air of confidence. She pours herself a mug of coffee and then takes a seat opposite the blonde. "Remember anything else from last night?"

Emma shrugs. "Just that I enjoyed it a lot," she admits, watching Regina's face closely for any hint of what she's feeling.

The mayor's eyebrows raise, and she smirks. "Did you now?" She's glad Emma admits it because they slip easily into friendly and slightly flirtatious banter, and this is so them.

The sheriff hums in agreement. "Wouldn't mind doing you - doing _it -_ again if the opportunity arose," she says nonchalantly into her mug.

Regina's mouth drops open in amused outrage at the crude words, and she chuckles before sipping her own drink. A few minutes pass as they drink in companionable silence.

"I would have thought you'd be angrier," Emma pipes up. "Or, pretended to be, at least."

"Mm," Regina hums. "I may still be slightly drunk."

A laugh bubbles up from the sheriff, and then she shakes her head.

"Are we really going to do this, Emma? Whatever this is. _Can_ we?" Regina muses. There's that anxiety again, laying just below the surface.

"Do you want to?" Emma looks at her earnestly.

Regina's mouth opens and closes again, and Emma can practically see the cogs turning in her head, trying to come up with a list of reasons why they should definitely _not_ do this.

"No reasoning, Regina - just feeling. Do you?"

A beat passes, and then the brunette swallows and nods. It's hard to agree to any of this, to stop her walls from going up after everything that's happened in her life, especially so soon after Robin. If Robin's taught her anything though, it's how to love and be brave, to trust when trusting is the last thing she wants to do. That in itself makes this ever so slightly easier - because she wants this, she really does, and Robin would tell her to follow her heart.

So follow her heart she does, despite everything inside her telling her not to, screaming at her to run in the opposite direction.

Emma beams at her, all pure and unbridled hope and light. "Then we can do this," she promises. "But if we're going to do this, let's do it properly."

Regina cocks her head.

"Let me take you out," Emma explains.

"What, like a date?" the mayor snorts. When she just receives a completely serious nod in response, she rolls her eyes. "Ok," she chuckles.

Emma flashes her that bright smile again, as if Regina agreeing to go on a date with her is the biggest and best thing in the world. "Great!" Then, quick as light, the blonde leans across the kitchen island, closes the distance between them, and presses her lips to Regina's as she had done the previous night.

When they part again, the mayor hums and bites her lower lip, the corners of her mouth tilting up into a smirk. "Don't let it go to your head, Miss Swan."


End file.
